


The Bodega Man

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [35]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Romantic Fluff, race probably is not, spots a hard workin man in this bad boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Spot works at a bodega and a very pretty boy walks in one night





	The Bodega Man

**Author's Note:**

> yea the title is from that john mulaney skit, what are u gonna do about it???

“Lock up before you go.”

Spot caught the keys his manager threw to him mostly off of reflex, and managed to reel in the reflex to whip them back in his face. The level of commitment the guy expected was insane; Spot was working twenty five cents above minimum wage at a bodega, getting fired would probably make his day at this point. 

But Spot watched him walk out, the door swinging shut way too quickly behind him. That needed to be fixed, along with most of things in here. 

Mumbling a curse under his breath, Spot leaned back on the old office chair he was sitting in and looked at the clock. It was midnight, and they didn’t close until one thirty. Plus, it was a Wednesday, so anyone that came in this late was either drunk or high or both, and Spot wasn’t in the mood to throw anybody out.

There wasn’t much Spot could do about any of that though, so he leaned back and grabbed the remote for their shitty T.V and flicked it on. Lou, his manager, was trying to live in the 1970’s for as long as possible, and the T.V he’d bought however many decades ago had a grainy screen and about thirty different channels to choose from. 

After a couple minutes of flicking through them all he settled on a soccer game from the night before that they were replaying, and as a reward for his hard work, he cracked open an Arizona too. He deserved it.

There was the ring of the door opening about ten seconds after that, and Spot barely bit back a groan as he set down his can and turned toward the front, promptly choking on his drink.

It was a guy probably his age, who thankfully didn’t look drunk or high, and Spot really didn’t care for wishful thinking, but he’d sign away his soul if the dude wasn’t gay. Or bi, just  _ not straight. _

He was gorgeous basically, and Spot actually got a good look at his highlight, killer by the way, as he turned to look at Spot, who was now coughing violently.

“Oh, uh, you okay?”

He definitely wasn’t, Arizona was basically filling his lungs, but he nodded quickly and brought down the coughing. “Yeah, sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

The guy’s mouth quirked up in a bit of a smile before he nodded and turned back to the fridge of energy drinks he’d been scanning. 

Spot angled himself so that it looked like he was watching their shitty T.V again, and hoped that the guy wasn’t catching the side eye he was giving him. Call it whatever you want, associate it with the fact that Spot hadn’t been on a date in months, or the fact that Valentine’s Day had just passed, but he liked the guy. And he wasn’t even superficial, when Spot had been choking he asked if he was okay, so he wasn’t a terrible person. Probably not, at least he didn’t  _ look  _ like one. 

But now he’d picked out his Redbull and was turning toward the counter, so Spot averted his eyes until he put the can down on the counter.

Spot watched him blow a stray curl out of his face while he pulled a wallet out of his pocket, which was falling apart, by the way.

“That all for you?” Spot asked, drawing the guy’s eyes up to meet his.

He scanned the wall behind Spot where they kept the cigarettes for a second before shaking his head and looking back at Spot, this time with a light smile on his face. “Yeah, sorry, I’m trying to quit smoking, had to think for a second.”

Spot took the five dollar bill he gave him and hummed knowingly. “I feel that, I quit last year and it was hell.”

“Those D.A.R.E officers really had it right, huh?”

Chuckling, Spot counted out his change. He was definitely stumbling over the coins a little but it wasn’t his fault; he was almost certain the guy was wearing some sort of perfume.

“You’re right about that,” he said, as he handed him the change and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t look like a smoker, though.”

Raising one eyebrow, the guy cracked open his Redbull. “Really? What do I look like?”

That had to be flirting, there was no other reason for it. People didn’t just strike up conversation with bodega workers at half past midnight, right?

Luckily though, his question gave Spot an excuse to look him up and down again before answering. “Like one of those kids who walks around NYU vaping at like, eleven o’clock in the morning.”

The guy laughed at that, actually laughed, almost spitting his drink all over the counter actually. But it was  _ great  _ and Spot could honestly care less.

“God that’s harsh,” the guy sputtered out after a minute. “Also oddly specific, do you have a vendetta against the kids who vape at NYU?”

Biting back a smile of his own Spot nodded quickly. “Hell yeah, man. Everyday on my way to class I have to inhale that shit, it sucks.”

“Oh, you go to NYU?” the guy asked, perking up.

“Yeah, you?”

The guy’s curls bounced when he nodded and Spot had to force himself to focus on what he was saying. 

“Yeah, I’m a sophomore.”

“Me too,” Spot said, leaning forward on the counter with his elbows. “Funny I’ve never seen you.”

He watched the guy’s eyes brighten for a second before responding. “Big campus I guess, maybe we could-”

And because everyone in New York hated Spot, whatever the cute guy was about to say was cut off as a guy walked in, pushing the door open so hard it nearly smacked against the wall. Drunk for sure, and walking right up to the pair of them.

“Pack of Camel Crush.”

Spot was about to snap at him that he was in the middle of a goddamn conversation when cute boy took a step back.

“I gotta go, anyway,” he said quickly, pushing the door open with his back while he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you.”

And with that, cute boy was gone, and Spot was left with the shitty drunk guy who was fumbling in his wallet for cash. Slamming the cigarettes down onto the counter, Spot hoped he crushed a few of them.

* * *

 

“You  _ want  _ to close?”

Lou was staring at him like he was insane, keys in hand, while Spot was sitting behind the counter with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, so?”

Lou put his hands up and took a step back. “Hey man, no skin off my back.”

He tossed Spot the ring of keys and grabbed a can of Coke on his way out, mumbling something about the ‘damn kids’ under his breath as he left. 

Spot drummed his fingers on the counter once he was gone, eyes flicking from the T.V set to the door a few times before he forced himself to stop. This wasn’t  _ just  _ because he hadn’t seen the cute guy since that Wednesday last week, he just so happened to be broke, too. 

But yeah, he might have spent the last couple days walking around campus more, maybe asking Albert and Specs about the guy; they had called it ‘harassing’ but Spot disagreed. Apparently when you didn’t know someone’s name, and could only describe them as ‘cute with curly blonde hair’, it was hard to find them within a campus of 26,000 students. Who knew. 

And after days of complaining and dragging his feet when Albert and Specs yelled at him to just stay late at work again and see if he came back at the same time, here he was. Watching soccer and probably looking paranoid as all hell with how many times he looked at the door.

It was barely midnight though, and Spot opened a bag of Taki’s while he waited, again, as a reward for all his hard work. 

The bell for the door rang his as he was licking some dust off his fingers.

“A Taki’s man, definitely not what I would have guessed.”

Spot looked up, completely failing at hiding his grin when the cute boy walked up, going right up to the counter this time instead of walking around.

“Really? What snack food did you think I’d be eating, then?”

Leaning forward on the counter so he was a bit closer to Spot, the cute boy let out a drawn out sigh, tilting his head to look at Spot for a few seconds. “I dunno, you give off a very strong hot cheeto vibe.”

Spot chuckled at that, tossing a Taki up in the air and catching it in his mouth, and he made a conscious effort to swallow fully before speaking. “Hot cheetos? As opposed to regular?”

The cute boy actually  _ blushed  _ then, and Spot let out a whoop internally.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

Spot nodded. “Very quickly, actually.”

He could have screamed with how cute cute boy looked when he got flustered. 

“Okay well, I’ve sorta been sitting on it for the last few days,” he said finally, eyes flicking up at Spot before looking back down. “Didn’t want to waste it on the other guy that works here.”

“So you have been coming in,” Spot exclaimed as he pushed the rickety office chair forward. “My friends told me-”

“You asked your friends about me?”

Now it was Spot’s turn to stutter for a second, and the cute boy laughed out loud again, so it was worth it.

“To be fair, that’s probably just as bad as walking around New York alone at night trying to find a random bodega.”

Spot grinned, and was about to snap back with something when he remembered something, and snapped his fingers. “Oh wait, that reminds me, what’s your name?”

“Race,” the cute boy replied, “and you are?”

“Spot.”

They had a few seconds where they were both just nodding at each other like idiots, and they made eye contact before they both started laughing. 

“Weird nicknames are fun, aren’t they?” Race said. “My real name’s Anthony, but I never use it.”

Spot nodded in agreement. “Mine’s Sean, and same, people have been calling me Spot since grade school.”

“Same here.”

After a beat of silence, Spot cleared his throat and Race lifted his head. 

“So, did you want something, or was this visit just for me?”

Race shrugged, looking around at the shelves of food. “I mean, mainly just for you if I’m being honest, but I am starving.”

“Take whatever you want,” Spot said, waving off Race before he could protest. “My boss doesn’t care, I do it all the time.”

“Damn, thanks,” he said, although Spot was pretty sure he felt bad about it, because he just grabbed a bag of chips before walking back to the counter.

Spot nodded his head toward the fridges. “You can get a drink too, if you want.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Spot cut in, smirking a bit at him before continuing. “Consider it compensation for probably almost getting mugged the last couple nights.”

Race ducked his head, and Spot saw the flash of a blush on his face before he did, but picked out his Redbull nonetheless. “Yeah, alright, I guess.”

He popped open the bag and looked around the store after Spot marked down what he took. “So, what time do you close?”

“One thirty.”

Race let out a low whistle before hopping up on the counter. He swung his feet when Spot looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Mind if I hang around ‘til then?”

Spot laughed and shook his head, looking at Race who was awful cute when he was clearly making an effort to be. “Yeah, make yourself at home.”

And he did, for most night after that, in fact, and Spot had to say, it was worth getting hounded by Lou over the missing snack food, and the tiredness, and the other drunken customers he had to deal with on occasion. In fact, he’d never liked his job more. 

**Author's Note:**

> ayyy this one was fun to write,, these poor boys are too flirty for their own good tbh
> 
> but as usual leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed!!!!


End file.
